


"i'll drive you to the hospital."

by clickingkeyboards



Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [44]
Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: Best Friends, F/F, can be read as platonic, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: Hazel is in university when a bleeding Daisy turns up on her doorstep.Modern AUWritten for the forty-fourth prompt in the '100 ways to say "I love you"' prompt list by p0ck3tf0x on Tumblr.
Relationships: Daisy Wells & Hazel Wong, Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533164
Kudos: 20





	"i'll drive you to the hospital."

It is two o'clock in the morning and Daisy Wells is bleeding on the doorstep of my student accommodation.

“HAZEL!” Ah Lan screams up the stairs.

I know that he isn’t intending to wake the entirety of our student accommodation but he does a fantastic job of it. “What is it?” I call down, pulling my Chinese dressing gown around me and rushing down the stairs.

With an awkward look on his face, Ah Lan gestures towards the kitchen. “There’s a bleeding young woman requesting your assistance and calling you Watson.”

“Daisy!” I bolt into the kitchen to see her sitting on the counter, dripping blood onto her jeans from a slit in her brow. Although I have not seen her since September when I first began at Cambridge, I cannot be sentimental because my Daisy is  _ hurt _ . We can hug and kiss when she isn’t bleeding. “Oh,  _ Daisy _ , what happened?”

“I was chasing after… after a thief,” she tells me, the adrenaline clearly zipping through her as her blue eyes are ablaze with the thrill of the sting. “He cut me. Beat me. I’ll be back on the trail tomorrow. Really, I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh,  _ Daisy _ !” I fling myself at her, hauling her off of the counter and bowing my head into her shoulder. It feels like it’s been years since I saw her, when it’s only been three months. I’ve never spent such a long time alone. I  _ am _ alone without her. Despite Ah Lan on my arm, my housemates feeding me pizza and helping me with essays and staying up late with me, I am very much half of a person without Daisy. “Oh, I’ve  _ missed _ you. Calls aren’t enough, they really aren’t. Daisy, I can skip lectures and spare weekends and detect with you. I don’t mind pulling all-nighters and doing essays until three in the morning. I want to detect with you again.”

“Please… Hazel, that hurts, get  _ off _ me.” I feel something give under my chest and Daisy groans.

“ _ Shit _ , Daisy, what is it?” I push her off me and she slumps against the counter.

There’s blood on her shirt. I dart forward and drag it up and there’s a disgusting give in her chest, one that juts and bursts and also dips. “Oh…  _ Christ _ , Daisy. This is what a broken rib looks like.”

“I’m fine,” she says, somehow managing to sound absolutely fine despite the fact that I can see some rather important bones.

“AH LAN, WHERE ARE THE CAR KEYS?” I bellow, turning to the stairs and back to Daisy. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

Despite her protests, I drag Daisy down the stairs and into the car, still wearing my pyjamas as she’s bleeding through her blouse.

“Any other severe injuries you want to tell me about?” I grumble as I open the door for her and help her in, not allowing her to buckle herself in. “And can you stand some pain?”

“Why?”

“Because I either go the fast way and speed and you will maybe die, or we go the slow way and you maybe bleed out and die.”

She shoots me an astonished look with lidded blue eyes. “Hazel Wong!” Daisy exclaims. “I’ve taught you to be pessimistic!”

“Oh joy,” I grumble, pretending to relish the squeak of pain that concerns me when I start the car.

* * *

We limp-run into A&E (an art that we have perfected from many years of running from murderers, which I realised when I got to university is a sentence that concerns a lot of people because normal teenagers don’t do that) and up to the desk.

“Name?”

“Daisy Wells.”

“Injury?”

“Uh…” She turns to me. “ _ Ha _ zel?”

With my arm wrapped around her shoulders (it doesn’t need to be there but I want an excuse), I say, “She’s broken her ribs and is generally bashed up.” After a pause, I tack on, “She’s a private detective.”

With a nod, the woman behind the desk pulls up Daisy’s records. “Okay, take a seat, Miss Wells. We’ll just ring your emergency contact.”

She picks up the phone and dials a number, and my phone rings in my hand. Daisy casts me a sheepish smile. “Hi.”

“I’m you’re emergency contact?”

“Who else would it be, you moron?”

* * *

Daisy Wells has broken ribs and falls asleep on my shoulder with a meal deal from a vending machine in her lap.

Daisy Wells is bleeding all over my nice Chinese dressing down.

Daisy Wells is a foolhardy idiot.


End file.
